The Business of Recovery
by Quippery
Summary: After ending the war and inheriting the titles of the Potter and Black families, Harry decides to create a future of his own by pursuing his education at Ouran Academy to run the family businesses.
1. Chapter 1

The Business of Recovery

Quippery

I do not own Harry Potter or Ouran High School Host Club.

Summary: After ending the war and inheriting the titles of the Potter and Black families, Harry decides to create a future of his own by pursuing his education at Ouran Academy to run the family businesses.

Author's Note: I can hardly claim to be a writer, but this idea has been niggling at my mind for a while now. I wanted to put my idea into textual form so I could organize my thoughts, and I figured that I might as well share it with you all since it was written out.

Chapter 1

Harry grimaced in discomfort as he stood outside the gates of Ouran Academy. His discomfort wasn't at the school itself, which towered before him with overbearing opulence and pink, instead it was at his _wretched uniform. _The dark blue dress slacks, though of top quality, were restrictive compared to the battle robes he was used to, not to mention the tie and jacket. He was certain that anyone who saw him would instantly know he didn't belong here in this world of wealth and luxury.

'But you do now,' he reminded himself as he adjusted his tie in a failed attempt to ease his discomfort. And it was true. Now that he had inherited the Potter and Black families (and the lordships that went with them), he had enough wealth and status to rival anyone who attended Ouran Academy, prestigious though it may be. His newly acquired status and wealth was actually the reason he found himself in front of a giant pink mansion of a school in a crisply-pressed new uniform in Japan. He felt that, as the last remaining member of both the Potter and Black families, he had a responsibility to both maintain and expand upon the businesses and wealth that he currently owned.

He remembered his surprise at the knowledge that both the Potter and Black families had businesses in the muggle world.

* * *

_Harry stared at the bank goblin in front of him in confusion. He thought he knew what to expect when he came into Gringott's for his inheritance's to be legalized, but this was far more than he expected._

"_What's wrong, Mr. Potter? Surely you didn't expect the money to just show up in the vault on its own, did you? Both the Potter and Black families have owned businesses in the muggle world for generations!" the goblin exclaimed as though it were obvious._

"_I, ah, figured it was interest… or something…" Harry trailed off at the goblin's chuckles and scowled, "Well excuse me if I didn't know anything about it!"_

"_I apologize, Mr. Potter," the goblin ceased his laughter and gave Harry a contemplative look, "I suppose you have been rather…busy… with other matters."_

_Harry's face went a bit stony, his eyes lost in dark memories, "Yeah, you could say that." The war against Lord Voldemort, though short, was brutal. The deaths of those he loved still haunted him greatly, though the war had been over for nearly a year. He shook his head as if clearing away a fog, and a determined expression appeared on his face, "What do I need to do to make these businesses run and grow?"_

_

* * *

_

After having listened to the goblin rattle off a bunch of business terms that he barely understood, Harry and the goblin decided that the first thing he needed to do was get an education that focused on running a business. Harry knew he wanted to go to school in another country, as England held too many bad memories for him, but it was the goblin who convinced him to attend Ouran Academy.

"Knowledge is only a part of it," the goblin had explained, "The rest is all about connections, of which you currently have very few. Ouran hosts students from some of the most influential and well-off families in the world. If there's anywhere to make some good connections, Ouran is the place."

So, after a mostly-legal language spell and a heck of a long plane trip, Harry found himself here, standing in front of one of the most elite high schools in the world and about to take the first steps into his new life as Lord Harrison Potter- Black.

'Buck up, Potter," he adjusted his satchel and squared his shoulders and stepped onto the grounds of Ouran Academy, 'Here goes nothing.'

* * *

End Chapter 1

Author's Note: I know it's pretty short and has a lot of back story, sorry about that. Consider this a sort of teaser, I suppose. I would love to hear your reactions!


	2. Chapter 2

The Business of Recovery

Quippery

I do not own Harry Potter or Ouran High School Host Club.

Summary: After ending the war and inheriting the titles of the Potter and Black families, Harry decides to create a future of his own by pursuing his education at Ouran Academy to run the family businesses.

Author's Note: I am completely blown away by the level of response that this story has gained! Wow, way to inflate someone's ego. :P Anyways, all the reviews and stuff have inspired me to write the next chapter right away, so here you go!

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention. In this story, Harry defeated Voldemort at 16, is 17 now, and this takes place before the trip to the beach in the anime.

Chapter 2

Harry's footsteps echoed eerily as he made his way through the seemingly empty building. He had been at Ouran for two and a half weeks now, but he had yet to get used to the sheer size of the place. Even Hogwarts couldn't really compare to how huge the school was! He looked again at the hastily scribbled directions in his hand. Assuming his sense of direction was still intact, he should be almost there.

Ahead of him in the hallway a sign had "Music Room 3" written clearly on it. "Well," he mumbled as he reflexively held his satchel of books closer to him, "I suppose this is place." As he reached towards the handle, however, a sudden feeling of dread gave him pause. Rolling his eyes at the absurdity that a door could give him chills, Harry quickly turned the handle and opened the door.

"_Welcome!" _seven voices rang out in greeting as rose petals flew out through the doorway.

Belonging to a world of magic, one experiences many fantastical and odd things. Harry himself was a friend with a half-giant, a skeleton horse, and a hippogriff at but one point in his life. All of these previous experiences allowed for him to merely blink once in surprise before stepping fully into the room.

There was a moment of awkward and surprised silence, during which Harry quickly took in the group in front of him. Three of the students were in the same class as him: the twins, Hikaru and Kaoru Hitachiin, and the girl dressed as a boy, Haruhi Fujioka. The rest of them, however, he didn't recognize. There was a lively looking blond boy in the middle of the group, another boy with dark hair and glasses, and a ridiculously tall (at least compared to Harry's own 5' 9" frame), dark-haired boy in the back with a small blond-haired kid on his shoulders.

"Um, hi," Harry fidgeted awkwardly under their stares, "I'm looking for a Kyouya Ootori… is he here?"

The dark-haired boy with the glasses stepped forward. "That's me," he said, "May I ask why you are looking for me?"

"Ah, yes," Harry replied, "I was wondering if I might talk to you for a moment."

Giving a brief nod of his head, Kyouya led Harry away from the rest of the boys (and girl) to talk.

"Well, that was weird," Haruhi said as soon as they were out of earshot, "I wonder what Harry needed to talk to Kyouya-senpai about."

"Wait, you know this boy, Haruhi?" Tamaki exclaimed, a jealous look filling his eyes as he watched the new boy with suspicion.

"Of course I do, Senpai, he's in the same class as Hikaru, Kaoru, and me. Right, guys?" she turned to the twins for their agreement.

"Yeah, I don't know why he would show up here though," Hikaru replied with apathy. "Seriously," Kaoru continued, "He's a nobody. I don't even know how he made it into our class, let alone why he's approaching Kyouya-senpai. I mean, did you see that rat's nest of a hair do?" The twins looked at each other in disgust, "It's probably black to hide the things that have crawled in there and died."

"Oh, come on, guys, it's not that bad," Haruhi replied in weak defense, "It's just a little…messy, that's all."

"A little messy? Please, Haruhi, have you seen him?" Hikaru exclaimed. "It's not even just that, either," he continued, "He slouches, hardly talks, knows practically nothing, and is always pushing at his nose like he used to wear glasses!"

"How is he in this school if he knows nothing then?" Tamaki wondered out loud.

"Beats me, Boss," Kaoru said, "but he's old enough to be in the same class with Mori-senpai and Honey-senpai. I guess the teacher's felt sorry for him and let him in our class instead."

"I don't know, maybe he's just shy?" Honey chirped up, "He could be really nice if you got to know him!"

"Meh," the twins replied in unison, "Whatever."

"They're on their way back now," Mori stated, drawing their attention back to Kyouya and Harry, who were making their way back towards the group.

"Thank you very much, Kyouya-senpai. I really appreciate your help," Harry told him with a small grin.

"It was no problem, Harry," Kyouya replied, marking something down in his ever-present notebook, "I will have those numbers sent to you later today."

Harry gave Kyouya a smile of gratitude and, with a nod to everyone else, turned to leave the room. "Oh," he quickly turned around as if remembering something important, "Before I go, do any of you happen to know of a quiet place where I can study?"

"I wish," Haruhi mumbled to herself, thinking of how she ended up in this club to begin with.

"There is a small room connected to this one that should have ample space for studying," Kyouya replied, "You are welcome to use it whenever you like."

"Ah, thank you Kyouya-senpai," I will take you up on that," Harry looked at his watch, "Tomorrow that is, I have somewhere to be at the moment."

"Then I will see you tomorrow," Kyouya responded.

"See you!" Harry gave a little wave as he left the room and quietly shut the door behind him.

"What are you thinking, Kyouya?" Tamaki burst out as soon as the door had shut, "Why would you invite the dead-things-in-his-hair commoner boy back here again?"

"Commoner?" Kyouya replied with a smirk as everyone turned to him in confusion, "Why, didn't you all know? Harry, here, holds the lordships of two very old, very wealthy families. His full title is Lord Harrison James Potter-Black."

Tamaki got a far-off look in his eyes, "A Lord?" His eyes filled with relentless determination, "We must make him into a host!"

As Harry walked away, a sudden chill ran up his spine.


	3. Chapter 3

The Business of Recovery

Quippery

I do not own Harry Potter or Ouran High School Host Club.

Summary: After ending the war and inheriting the titles of the Potter and Black families, Harry decides to create a future of his own by pursuing his education at Ouran Academy to run the family businesses.

Author's Note: You guys are really the greatest, you know that? It makes me excited to write for everyone when I get such great responses!

I've had more than a few questions and comments towards who Harry would be paired with. The thing is, I haven't really decided yet. I do have a few top contenders in mind though, so I'll put them in a poll on my profile so you can help decide.

Speaking of profiles, I also put up a picture of what I picture Harry as looking like. Check it out, if you feel like it.

Enough rambling, I'm sure you're ready to read the actual story.

* * *

Chapter 3

"Everyone knows their parts then?" Tamaki asked, receiving nods from the host club members gathered around him. "Excellent!" he cried out, striking a dramatic pose, "Then tomorrow marks the beginning of plan "Make the Lord a Host"!"

_The Direct Method_

On his way to class the next morning, Harry was stopped by the energetic blonde from the day before.

"Good morning, dear sir," the boy exclaimed with a flourish. "I apologize for not properly introducing myself yesterday. My name," he paused for dramatic effect, "is Tamaki Suouh, a second year here at Ouran Academy."

"Oh," Harry replied, still too tired to even pretend to be eloquent, "It's nice to meet you then. My name's Harry Black. I'm a first year here."

"The pleasure is certainly mine, Black-san!" Tamaki exclaimed, full of vigor despite the lack-luster response.

"Please," Harry replied, "just call me Harry."

"Wonderful!" Tamaki beamed, "Then you simply must refer to me as Tamaki-senpai!"

"Um, sure, Tamaki-senpai."

"Now, then," Tamaki continued, "I'm sure you're just dying to know what sort of club you visited yesterday, am I right?"

"Well, no-"

"It's the Host Club!" Tamaki continued without missing a beat.

"Uh, oka-"

"You want to know what we do? Why of course I'll tell you!" At this point Tamaki began to wax poetic about the joys of the Host Club, how they entertained young ladies and strove to make them happy. Harry, though slightly peeved at being interrupted, just kept pretending to listen, nodding at all the right moments.

"And that, Harry, is why I'm inviting you to join the Host Club!" Tamaki finished, striking a dramatic pose.

Harry paused for a moment in the hope that his brain might be able to catch up with the conversation. "No thank you, Tamaki –senpai," he finally responded and left to go to class, leaving a shocked blonde alone in the hallway.

_The "You Couldn't Do it if you Wanted to" Method_

Harry was sitting at his desk and was in the process of getting a notebook and a pencil out when two identical shadows loomed above him. Somewhat startled, he jerked his head up to find the Hitachiin twins leaning on either side of his desk. A pang shot through his heart at the thought of another mischievous pair of identical twins.

Before he could lose himself in reminiscing about the past, the twin on the left (Hikaru, if he guessed correctly) spoke up, "So, we hear that the boss invited you to the club and you turned him down."

"You mean Tamaki-senpai?" Harry asked, slightly confused. Receiving a nod in return, he continued, "Yeah, it didn't sound like I would be a good fit for it."

"Hmm, that's probably for the best anyways," the twin on the right replied, waving his hand in an aloof fashion. "After all," he continued, an unidentifiable gleam in his eye, "Only the strong of heart can really become good hosts."

"Yeah," Hikaru took over, mirroring his twin's movements. He continued on, a challenge in his tone, "You probably couldn't do it even if you wanted to."

'Come on,' the twins thought, 'rise to the bait!'

A flash of some emotion crossed through Harry's eyes, making the twins think that he would call them on their challenge. But, quick as it came, it left. Instead a small grin made its way onto his face, "Hehe, yeah, you're probably right. I doubt I could handle it!"

_The Bribery Method_

By the time lunch rolled around, Harry had woken up more completely. Thinking back on the oddity of the morning's encounters, he mentally shrugged them off, though a niggling suspicion remained.

That suspicion seemed to be confirmed when, at lunch, the very tall dark-haired boy and the very short, child-like blonde approached him.

"Hiya, Harry-chan!" the blonde hopped forward with a huge smile on his face.

"Um, hello…" he paused and ruffled the hair at the back of his head, "I'm sorry, I don't know your names."

"No problem!" the blonde continued on, chipper as ever, "My name is Mitsukuni Haninozuka, and this is Takashi Morinozuka. We're both third year students here. Pleased to meet you!"

"Pleased to meet you too," Harry replied, somewhat taken aback at the blonde's excitement, as well as at the fact that he was a third year student.

The tall boy, Takashi, gave a nod and a small smile of greeting.

"Um," Harry started, trying to break up the awkward silence that had fallen between them, "Would you both like to sit down?"

Evidently that was the right thing to ask, because they both immediately took seats across from Harry. Well, Takashi took a seat, Mitsukuni, however, bounced into a seat.

Just after sitting down, Mitsukuni seemed to pull a very large cake (large, white, and covered in strawberries) from seemingly nowhere. "Would you like a piece, Harry-chan?" he asked in an almost too-sweet voice.

"Well, sure, I guess so," Harry replied. In fact, the cake looked rather tempting.

After all three were digging in to their slices, Mitsukuni chirped up, "You know, Harry-chan, we have cakes like this in host club every day. If you joined host club, we could eat them together!" he cried out in excitement.

Harry glanced at Takashi, who was staring at him in anticipation, "While that sounds nice, Mitsukuni-senpai, I'm afraid I'll have to pass. Sweets are all right every once in a while, but I don't think I would want them all the time."

Eyes wide at the heart-broken expression on Mitsukuni's face, Harry quickly mumbled out a 'sorry' and left the lunchroom, now certain that something strange was going on.

_The Convincing Method_

When Haruhi approached him in the hallway later, Harry was mostly expecting it.

"Hey, Harry," Haruhi began, trying and failing to sound nonchalant, "How's it going?"

"Hey, Haruhi," Harry replied, trying not to roll his eyes. "Are you going to try and convince me to join the host club as well?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

A meaningful look cut off Haruhi's nervous denial. "Fine," she huffed, "You got me. But really, Harry, the host club isn't that bad," she finished weakly.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Haruhi. Although you are extremely convincing," Harry gave a wry grin, "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to pass."

_The Convincing Method (Done Right)_

Harry was on his way to the music room to study when he came across Kyouya casually leaning against the wall outside the clubroom.

"Hey, Kyouya-senpai," Harry said, giving a small wave, "Thanks for giving me the numbers to those tutors yesterday. That'll help a lot."

"It was no problem, Harry," Kyouya replied, pushing himself off from the wall.

Harry peered at him shrewdly before asking, "You're not going to try and make me join the host club too, are you?"

"Not if you don't want me to," Kyouya replied with a sly grin as he adjusted his glasses on his face. Interrupting Harry's slight sigh of relief, he continued, "Of course, I thought you would be jumping at the chance to join."

"Oh?" Harry asked, confused, "Why would I want to do that?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Kyouya continued in an airy tone of voice, "I thought that part of the reason you are here is to make connections."

"W-well yeah, but," Harry stammered.

Kyouya continued on as if he hadn't heard him, "And what better way to make connections than joining a club filled to the brim with elite members." He looked at Harry in the eyes, "Don't you think?"

Harry frowned, mulling it over. He hadn't thought about it that way. He was just thinking that the whole thing would be a hassle he didn't need. "I suppose you're right, Kyouya-senpai."

"Excellent," Kyouya grinned, his glasses glinting strangely in the light, "Then it's agreed that you'll join the host club?"

Hesitantly, Harry nodded before he found himself be dragged into the clubroom by twin pairs of arms.

The last thing Kyouya saw before the door shut was Harry's expression as it froze in a comical expression of shock.

* * *

Author's Note: My longest chapter yet! Be sure to check out the poll on my profile page, in case you missed that in the note at the beginning. :)


	4. Chapter 4

The Business of Recovery

Quippery

I do not own Harry Potter or Ouran High School Host Club.

Summary: After ending the war and inheriting the titles of the Potter and Black families, Harry decides to create a future of his own by pursuing his education at Ouran Academy to run the family businesses.

Author's Note: I had never realized how important reviews were to authors until I started receiving them myself. There's nothing that can quite compare to the rush of encouragement and inspiration one feels when getting an actual response from someone. With that in mind, I've made a strong effort to reply to other stories I read.

Not that you care about that though, haha.

A couple people asked if this was going to have a slash pairing. The answer to that is yes. Speaking of which, thank you all for participating in the poll. I'll leave it up for a couple more days, but I'm pretty sure I know whom Harry is going to be paired with.

Anyways, onto chapter 4!

* * *

Chapter 4

"How did you know that I would agree to join the Host Club?" Harry asked curiously as they waited for the new hairdresser to arrive. There had been a hairdresser present when the twins had dragged Harry into the clubroom, but he had taken one look at Harry's hair and walked out.

"Truthfully, we didn't know for sure that you would," Tamaki replied from his position n a nearby couch. "But who wouldn't want to join the Host Club?" he finished excitedly.

"What Tamaki is trying to say," Kyouya said, shifting his glasses to hide his rolling eyes, "Is that we were quite certain that we could appeal to your better nature. Also, the Host Club's single-mindedness and determination were sure to make you agree eventually, if only to sure them up," he finished with a smirk.

The twins opened their mouths to object before pausing, looking at each other, and shrugging, "He's kind of right."

"Fair enough, I suppose," Harry chuckled.

"Anyways," the twin on the left piped up, "this whole waiting thing is boring."

A mischievous glint entered the twins' eyes, "Let's play the "Which One is Hikaru?" game!"

"The what now?" Harry asked, confused.

"Again?" Haruhi asked in disbelief, "I thought you only played that with the guests."

"Usually we do," the twin on the right responded, "But Harry here has never played before, so we have to see if he's any good."

Both twins seemed to pull hats out of nowhere, placing them on their heads and moving to stand before Harry. "So, Harry," they said, identical mischievous grins on their faces, "Which one is Hikaru?"

"That's the whole game?" Harry asked, incredulous. The only response was everyone looking at him expectantly. "Okay, then," he continued, "The one on the left is Hikaru, making the one on the right Kaoru." Oblivious to the twins' shock that he had guessed correctly, he continued, "I don't really understand this game, though. Is it supposed to be hard or something?"

The amazed stares of all those in the rooms told him that, yes, it was supposed to be difficult. The twins, especially, seemed to be frozen in shock. Was it true that they had met yet another person who could so easily tell them apart?

"How did you know who was who, Harry-chan?" Mitsukuni, or Honey-senpai as Harry had found out he usually went by, asked him, cake laying on the table, forgotten in his surprise.

"Well, experience, I suppose," Harry shrugged.

"How so?" Kyouya asked, black notebook open as if to jot down notes about it.

Harry's mind's eye was filled with images of twin red-haired personifications of mischief. A small, sad smile made its way across his face, "I was friends with twins who were similar to you two," he gave a nod towards Hikaru and Kaoru, who had finally taken off their hats and were leaning against the couch where Tamaki sat. "Well, similar in the fact that they were identical twins and were grand mischief-makers. They even had a game that was similar to your "Which One is Hikaru?" game." His eyes got a far-away look as he became lost in his memories, "They didn't just leave it at a simple question, though; they went all out."

"How so?" the twins leaned forward, excited at the prospect of a new game.

"They would plan ahead for nearly a week before asking if anyone knew the difference between them. During that time they would completely switch personalities with each other, down to the clothes they wore, the seats they were assigned, and the food that they ate. Then, right when you thought you had the right answer, they'd switch back seamlessly," Harry waved his hands around as if to emphasize just how crazy the whole thing was. "And that's not even taking into consideration the way they finished each others' sentences," he laughed, "It drove the teachers absolutely bonkers. Eventually they began to call themselves "Gred" and "Forge" instead of "Fred" and "George"."

Haruhi's brow furrowed as she tilted her head questioningly, "I couldn't help but notice that you used past tense when describing them; did something happen to them?"

The flash of sadness that shadowed Harry's face made her sorry for bringing it up. Before she could apologize, however, he went ahead and answered, "They passed away last year. I hope you understand me not wanting to talk about it."

Haruhi nodded solemnly. She knew what it was like to have lost someone, and Harry spoke about these twins as if they were all very close.

Silence reigned in the clubroom, no one really knowing what to say. Luckily, they didn't have to say anything, for at that moment the replacement hairdresser arrived. She was a female, appearing to be in her late twenties, with brown hair pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. She wasn't extremely tall, but Harry was disgruntled to find that, as he stood to either greet her or attempt escape, that she was an inch or so taller than himself.

She looked about questioningly as all the club members pointed at a startled Harry. Tamaki had only one request, "Fix him, please."

To give her credit, her eyes only widened a little bit as she took in the mess that was Harry's hair, and her only hesitation was to take a deep breath and square her shoulders.

'Really,' Harry thought to himself as he was positioned in a barber chair that the club members had prepared before he arrived, 'These reactions to my hair are going to give me a complex.'

The room was soon filled with the metallic 'snip snip' of the scissors and the advice called out from various club members. Finally the hairdresser, Kimi-chan as she had asked to be called, stood back and wiped the perspiration from her forehead. "He's finished," she said followed by the clapping and cheering of the Host Club.

Before Harry could even look at himself in the mirror, however, he was shoved into a small practice room with a new uniform. Confused, he looked from the new uniform in his hands to the now closed door in front of him, "But I already have a uniform!"

Huffing at not receiving a reply, Harry began to change out of his _perfectly fine_ uniform. As he was about to put on the new shirt, Honey-senpai opened the door, "Hika-chan and Kao-chan are on the phone, but they wanted me to tall you that this uniform is tailored an-," Honey-senpai gasped, his eyes going wide and tearful as Harry turned around to face him, "Harry-chan, what happened to you?"

Harry's eyes went wide as he realized that his back had been fully visible to Honey-senpai. Normally, that wouldn't have been a big deal, but, normally, people didn't have scars across their back. A particularly long, ropey scar started at the top of his right shoulder and curved around to his side, under his left ribs, which is probably what had shocked Honey-senpai so badly, Harry figured. He threw on his apparently tailored uniform, determined not to think of just how the Host Club had gotten his exact measurements, "I," he looked at Honey-senpai who was nearly in tears and the rest of the Host Club who had gathered about to see what the commotion was, "I have to go."

Before anyone could respond, Harry slipped past them and out the door. He maintained an even walking pace for only about five steps before his panic kicked in and he took off at a full run and didn't stop until he had arrived in his apartment and locked the door behind him.

He leaned his back against the wall and slid down, hugging his knees to his chest. He didn't make a sound as he sat there, desperately doing everything in his power not to think of the horrified faces of the club members he had left behind. Silent tears fell in time to the beating of a weary heart.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, that wasn't depressing. Don't worry, Harry will cheer up eventually. It's just that to recover, you have to have something wrong first.

As I said before, the poll will be up until Friday. Also, I illustrated chapters 1 and 3 and posted the pictures on my profile. You don't have to look at them, but they were fun to make.

Reviews are what keep me motivated, and I appreciate even the smallest comment!


	5. Chapter 5

The Business of Recovery

Quippery

I do not own Harry Potter or Ouran High School Host Club.

Summary: After ending the war and inheriting the titles of the Potter and Black families, Harry decides to create a future of his own by pursuing his education at Ouran Academy to run the family businesses. **Warning: Slash**

Author's Note: This chapter might end up being a little dark, just a head's up. Also, in case you didn't catch it on my profile page, I will be updating Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. As always, I appreciate any response I receive, so a big "thank you" to all of you who reviewed.

* * *

Chapter 5

Harry woke slowly, grimacing as his eyelids stuck together with the crusty remnants of sleep. It took him a moment to remember why, exactly, he had fallen asleep slumped against the wall in the entryway of his apartment, but soon the events of the day before came rushing back to him. He groaned and buried his head in his hands as he comprehended the repercussions of the day before.

The Host Club had seen his scars, had seen into his past. Well, really only Honey-senpai had seen him, but he was sure to have informed the others about it after Harry had rushed out. It wasn't just the fact that they now knew about things Harry would have rather remained hidden, no, it was the horrified look on Honey-senpai's face. That expression was burned into his memory so deeply; Harry could easily imagine the thoughts of fear and revulsion going through his senpai's head.

Bemoaning his situation, Harry eventually dragged himself upright. It was a slow, painful task considering his now stiff and cramping muscles from running, then falling asleep in such an uncomfortable position. A quick glance at the clock in the kitchen told him that it was only just past five in the morning. Knowing that he would be getting no more sleep tonight, he heaved a great sigh and dragged himself to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Hopefully a hot shower would ease the remaining muscle aches.

Harry took his time in the shower, simply standing and letting the hot water wash away his tension until I began to grow cool. Taking that as his cue that it was time to get out, he shut off the water and wrapped a towel around his waste. Running a hand through his hair, Harry found that it was a good deal shorter than it had been. In all the chaos of yesterday, he hadn't had a chance to see what the hairdresser had done with his hair.

Now immensely curious, Harry wiped away some of the fog clouding up his mirror and leaned forward, anxious to see what had been done. Half of him expected it to have grown back to its former length like it did when Aunt Petunia had cut his hair so terribly as a child, but that turned out not to be the case.

'She definitely knew what she was doing,' Harry mused as he combed through his hair with his fingertips. His hair was still messy, sure, but now it looked like it was supposed to be like that, instead of an accident. Besides being shorter all over, his hair now lay in carefully composed layers of various lengths that lay upon each other artfully. The only thing Harry found that he didn't like about the haircut was that the lightening bolt-shaped scar on his forehead was more visible than he would have chosen.

At least here it wouldn't be recognized as an icon, just an unfortunately placed scar. Still, habits are habits, and Harry was a bit disgruntled to find that he couldn't brush his fringe down to cover his scar.

He frowned as his eyes were drawn to another scar, the large one that had startled Honey-senpai badly. It was quite large, nearly an inch wide at some parts, and reached from the back of his right shoulder all the way around to under his left ribs. His left hand involuntarily reached over his shoulder to touch it. As deep as his physical scars were, his mental ones were even deeper.

Voldemort's return during the Triwizard Tournament at the end of Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts marked the end of his meager childhood and the beginning of his training. Self-defense, both magical and muggle, strategy, and battle spells were some of the major topics that were taught to him by various members of The Order of the Phoenix, a vigilante group created to fight Voldemort.

He stayed at his godfather Sirius Black's house that doubled as the headquarters for the Order that summer. The multitudes of wards and protection charms placed upon the house allowed for him to practice his magic without being expelled.

Even though it was hard work, Harry relished the time he got to spend getting to know his godfather as well as another of his father's friends: Remus Lupin. They even developed a small ritual where, when most everyone else had gone home, they would gather in the sitting room and Harry would listen to Sirius and Remus' stories about his mother and father during their school days.

Though Voldemort's followers, the Death Eaters, staged a few attacks, they were few and far between. According to the Order's spy, Severus Snape (Who didn't like Harry very much and, frankly, Harry didn't really like him), the ritual used to return Voldemort to his body, though effective, left the user weak for a good while after it was used.

Harry thought that they should attack now, while Voldemort was weak, rather than wait for him to get stronger, but Dumbledore had refused, saying that they did not yet have the resources and that Harry, himself, was not yet trained enough to fight.

Things continued in this way for the rest of the summer, and, when fifth year started, Harry knew many more spells than he had before. His training even continued during the school year, though at a much slower pace due to scheduling around classes. Though he had to drop playing quidditch, Dumbledore assured him that it was for the greater good.

Things were mostly quiet until the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries happened. Harry had been receiving strange visions about it for weeks and, when he was convinced that Sirius had been captured and was being tortured for his sake, he gathered his few remaining friends to stage a rescue.

He was too blindly by the thought that Sirius was getting hurt for his sake that he failed to see the trap for what it was. Though the Order had arrived in time to stop Harry and his friends from being seriously injured, Sirius had been shoved through the mysterious Veil of Death while in a deadly duel with his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange.

At this point, Harry lost it, running haphazardly after Bellatrix when she escaped the room and even going so far a to attempt the unforgivable cruciatus curse on her; a torture curse that causes inconceivable amounts of pain to the victim. Harry felt himself a failure as a godson when he could not muster enough ill intent to cause harm to his godfather's murderer, and the insane cackling of the witch only made things worse.

Dumbledore was about to come to his rescue yet again when things took a terrible turn for the worse. A splitting pain in the cursed scar on his forehead let Harry know without a doubt that Voldemort had arrived. Dumbledore immediately began to duel him, a display that showed Harry just how much he had yet to learn. It would take years to even achieve a portion of their mastery, who was he to think he could take Voldemort and his followers down with just a ragtag group of friends?

Fortunately, Dumbledore seemed to be handling himself quite well, at least until Voldemort switched to plan "b". Harry still wakes up some nights retching as he remembers the feeling of Voldemort in his head, possessing him, and of asking Dumbledore to kill him.

Somehow Harry had managed to force Voldemort from him, but he soon after collapsed, waking to find himself in the familiar white surroundings of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing.

Beating himself up over the death of Sirius, a man he looked towards as a father figure, Harry threw himself into his training. While his friendships suffered from it, only Hermione, Ron, Fred, and George remaining close to him, his magical strength and knowledge grew immensely.

When told of the seven pieces of Voldemort's soul that were lying around to keep him alive, Harry nearly went looking for them himself. Remembering how his rash actions had played a large part in getting his godfather killed, however, he decided to rely on the members of the Order of the Phoenix for assistance.

With everyone in on the secret of the pieces of soul, called horcruxes, finding them became a much quicker, if not simpler, task.

The first of the horcruxes, of which there were seven, had already been destroyed in Harry's second year when he had stabbed it through with a basilisk fang.

Mundungus Fletcher, a rather foul, dirty man, was the first to come across one of the missing horcruxes, though he was put off that he wasn't going to make a profit off of the silver locket it was encased in.

Hermione Granger found the next one, a diadem belonging to one of the founders of Hogwarts, by thinking to ask the house elves for their assistance.

A secret deal with the goblins at the bank allowed the order to grab the next horcrux, a chalice belonging to another of Hogwarts' founders, from the vaults of Bellatrix Lestrange.

It was with Severus' help that the Order confirmed that Voldemort's snake, Nagini, was the fifth horcrux. Harry used the life-debt that his parents' traitor, Peter Pettigrew, owed him to poison her.

Dumbledore himself retrieved the sixth horcrux, a deadly looking ring, though he made the mistake of putting it on his finger, releasing a deadly curse into his body. Severus Snape, the spy and potions master, did his best to stop the curse from killing Albus, but he was fighting a losing battle. On his deathbed, Dumbledore confided to Harry that his scar contained the seventh and final horcrux.

Though he did not wish to believe it, Harry knew that he would have to die if Voldemort was to be removed forever. Hermione, however, refused to believe that to be the truth and spent many sleepless days and nights searching for some way to remove the horcrux without killing Harry. Their usual way of killing the horcruxes by stabbing them with the basilisk venom-induced blade of Godric Griffindor wouldn't work as it would mean stabbing Harry in the forehead, and, now that Dumbledore was gone, their main source of knowledge was lost.

Finally Hermione believed she had found a way. She created a ritual of her own, drawing chalk diagrams on the floor of an empty classroom for days before deeming it perfect. In the middle of Hermione performing the ritual on him (with a few of the Order members standing against the wall in case something went wrong), Harry suddenly felt that something was not right.

He tried calling out for Hermione to stop, but the ritual kept him paralyzed and unable to utter a sound as he sat in the middle of her diagrams. Harry hoped beyond all hope that he was wrong, and that everything was going to plan, but his instinct told him otherwise.

As the ritual began to fully take hold, Harry felt the dark presence leave the refuge of his scar. Though painful, he smiled at the feel of the darkness lifting, leaving him lighter than he had ever remembered being. The horcrux hovered in front of him as an amorphous, shadowy blob, leaving Harry worried about it not dispersing.

The shadow seemed to fight against the ritual for a moment, straining to get back inside Harry's head, before it directed its attacks at its attacker. Eyes wide, but still mostly paralyzed, Harry watched in helpless horror as the horcrux struck unerringly into Hermione chest.

Her screams still haunt him to this day. The way her body jerked, deformed in agony, before the strain became too much and she died, taking the horcrux with her, still relentlessly fueled his nightmares.

The horcrux was defeated, sure, but at a very high cost.

Remus had called what he had "survivor's guilt" before he and his fiancé, Tonks, were killed defending a young muggleborn family in a raid.

Harry found that putting a name to it didn't make the guilt lessen.

Though it came at the painful cost of some of their members, the destruction of six out of the seven horcruxes left behind the faint stirrings of hope in the hearts of the Order of the Phoenix that maybe they could still win. Harry though, having seen the deadly power with which Voldemort fought, was less optimistic.

Optimistic or not, the Order had no choice but to respond when Voldemort launched a terrible attack on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The Weasley twins, Fred and George, had been on lookout at the time, and therefore the first defense. Countless enemies fell before their traps and tricks. They had adapted their creativity from prank items to items of destruction, and their genius showed. Instant swamps swallowed entire squads of enemy Death Eaters.

Though they held more than their own, the sheer multitude of enemies soon overran them, marking them as the first victims of what would soon become known as the Final Battle.

Everything quickly became chaotic as Hogwarts' ground turned into a battlefield. The shrieking and clicking of the acromantula gorging on the flesh of any stupid enough to enter their domain served as terrible background noise for all of the shouting of spells and screaming of victims.

Harry and Ron Weasley, his first real friend, found themselves fighting back to back and doing quite well. Until Voldemort entered the picture, that is.

Harry stood facing Voldemort, trying to make himself move, to make himself attack. His mind, however, was filled with that fearful display of power the Voldemort had shown at the Department of Mysteries just a few moths previous. 'It figures,' he thought distractedly to himself, 'I'll never even get to see my sixteenth birthday.'

Frozen as he was, he forgot that a large battle was still taking place around him and that no one else was going to stop so that he and Voldemort could have time to stare at each other.

"Harry!" Ron suddenly cried from his right, running towards him, "Look out!"

He didn't have time to think, to react. Ron grabbed his shoulder and swung around him so that they were back-to-back, then Harry felt a pain great enough to send him to his knees. He was informed later that it was a steel-cutting curse, used in demolitions, and that he was lucky to get away with just a scar (large though it was) to show for it.

It wasn't luck that had saved him though. It was the body of his best friend who had run to save him as he stood frozen in fear.

The moment he realized what had happened, that Ron had given his life in Harry's defense, something snapped within him. The fear within him was replaced with a righteous fury, burning so brightly that his memories of the event are blurred and fuzzy. For what is there to fear when one has nothing left to lose?

He didn't use an incantation to finish Voldemort off, no, nothing so sophisticated. He merely pointed his wand in Voldemort's face and _screamed_ his loss, his despair, and his fury. His magic reacted in a brilliant streak of white, positively slamming into Voldemort's body and straight into his wicked soul, ripping it apart.

The months afterward were spent mourning those they lost and rounding up the remaining Death Eaters, most of which Harry missed, unconscious from draining his magic reserves. It was many days before Harry spoke, many more before he was able to leave the hospital wing. It's hard to pick up the pieces of your broken life when some of pieces are missing.

Harry shifted, realizing that he had lost himself in his memories yet again. Splashing some cold water from the sink in his face, he shook his head as if to clear an etch-a-sketch. A quick glance at the clock had him throwing on one of his school uniforms.

Though he was tempted to simply skip school because of the events of the day before, Harry had vowed to never be a coward again. Never.

* * *

Author's Note: This is the longest chapter yet (mostly because I couldn't find a good place to end it). It's a little dark, I'll admit, but Harry gets to look forward to making up with the Host Club soon (probably next chapter).

Please keep reviewing!


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